Household Chores
by Lelu
Summary: Usagi and Mamoru have just gotten married, but she is upset by the way her beloved husband has been ordering her about.


2/17/01  
  
Household Chores  
By: Lelu  
leluh16@yahoo.com  
PG  
  
[Insert Standard Disclaimer]  
  
  
Sighing, she folded the sleeves on the shirt over the   
other and neatly creased the edges. Putting the shirt   
on a spot of the bed that was not already occupied by   
the other shirts, she grabbed the next shirt and   
proceeded to fold it…but messed up and threw it to   
the side. Wearily, she pushed a strand of golden hair   
out of her face, glancing uneasily at the next   
basketful of clothing that still needed to be folded.   
  
"Why can't men fold their own damn clothes?!" she   
exclaimed at the air, blue eyes rolling in frustration.   
  
It had been a month since she and Mamoru had   
wed…and although there were *many* *many*   
benefits, she thought, of marriage…there also came   
many responsibilities.   
  
'Like washing the dishes…folding clothes…cleaning   
the house from top to bottom…cooking…making   
sure everything is in order…washing the   
dishes…washing the dishes…'  
  
"Damn!" the expletive burst from her pink mouth, a   
word that one would never expect to hear from this   
angel…this angel that could be quite demonic if she   
wished to be. "I still have to wash the dishes…" She   
glanced at the pile of clothes that lay on the floor and   
then at the clothes that were still in the basket,   
begging to be folded.  
  
Now, she reasoned, folding the clothes wasn't so bad   
of a task…She had done that chore since she had   
been 6 years old, and now that she was 21, she was,   
practically, an expert of the folding-of-the-clothes   
process. She could have been finished folding those   
two piles of clothes in about 10 minutes, less, if she   
really wanted to hurry.  
  
But Mamoru…he had his 'own way' of folding the   
clothes…a completely opposite way of folding that   
she had been practicing for the past 15 years. And if   
the clothes weren't folded in *his* own specific way,   
she would have to listen and watch another one of his   
lectures of how the art of clothes-folding was done.  
  
And she did *not* need to listen to it for the…what   
was it? She glanced at the tablet of paper on the   
desk…for the 48th time.   
  
She took one last glance at the clothes and slowly   
began to back out of the room. 'I can finish   
later…before Mamo-chan comes home and finds out   
the clothes aren't *all* folded like they're supposed   
to be…' She turned and zipped out of the bedroom,   
heading for the kitchen area.   
  
She looked at the pile of dishes in the sink and nearly   
fainted in surprise…and anger.  
  
"I don't care if he *is* a certified doctor, or   
whatever! MEN should do some of the housework!   
Just because I don't have a job doesn't mean I have   
all this free time to do this!" She glared angrily at the   
dishes, wishing they would come to life so she could   
then murder the objects.   
  
Sighing, she grabbed the yellow rubber gloves - 'I   
*hate* these rubber gloves!' - and pulled them on,   
yanking them roughly over her hands and onto her   
arms. She turned on the cold and hot water, picked up   
the sponge, squeezed some soap onto it, and then   
proceeded to wash each dish, one at a time.  
  
'Another stupid way to wash the dishes…I used to   
just turn on the water and let the water run until it   
nearly filled the sink—easier, I think, than this way.   
But nooo…Mamo-chan nearly had a heart attack   
when he saw me do it the first time…*he* said it was   
more sanitary to do it this way…'  
  
She growled in the back of her throat, but grit her   
teeth, and continued to wash the dishes…one by one   
by one.  
  
*  
  
The door slammed shut and the sounds of whistling   
proceeded the body. Mamoru walked into the family   
room and looked around, surprised when he didn't   
hear the welcoming voice of his wife.  
  
"Usa-ko?" he called out. "Usa-ko…where are you?"  
  
His eyebrows drew together. 'Where are you?'  
  
He walked into the kitchen…and was very disturbed   
by what he saw- there she was, feet propped up on   
the table- 'Usa-ko,' he inwardly cringed, 'that's *so*   
unsanitary!' -, reading a magazine and popping   
cherries into her mouth. His glance fell by the   
sink…which still had dishes filled in it, waiting to be   
cleaned.   
  
His eyes opened wide in surprise. Without words, he   
spun out of the kitchen and marched into the   
bedroom….  
  
Where a basket of clothes waited to be folded…not to   
mention a pile on the floor.  
  
Now, his eyebrows arched up in surprise, and he   
walked out of the bedroom, into the family room,   
where he noted absently that it had *not* been   
dusted, and back into the kitchen…where Usagi   
continued to ignore him.  
  
"Ano…Usa-ko…sweetheart…" His voice sounded   
faintly amused to her, but she knew that if she pushed   
him a bit more, his temper would erupt…which was   
exactly what she wanted.  
  
"Hai, Mamo-chan?" she tilted her head to the side,   
blond streams of hair falling over her shoulder. "Is   
there something you need?" She held up a cherry to   
him. "Would you like one?"  
  
His eyes darkened as he strode next to her, crouching   
down next to her chair, and took the cherry into his   
mouth…directly from her fingers.   
  
Her eyes opened wide as she felt his tongue briefly   
lick the tips of her fingers. She made a move to pull   
back her hands, but his wrist held hers in a lock she   
could not break out of.  
  
"Now suppose," he said, voice a whisper, "you tell   
me what's going on?"  
  
She barely suppressed a grin. "Whatever do you   
mean, Mamo-chan?"  
  
He winced- the sweetness of her voice   
was…well…nauseatingly sick. "The dishes in the   
sink…the unfolded clothes…the not-dusted   
rooms…" He arched an eyebrow at her, gently   
kissing the palm of her hand. "An explanation is   
needed, if you don't mind."  
  
"Oh, but I do mind," she shot back, pulling her hand   
away.  
  
"I'd like to know, anyway," he said, mouth curving   
upwards.  
  
She stared at his mouth…his perfect lips…that she   
loved…to…kiss…Involuntarily, she felt herself   
being drawn to him…and just as their mouths were   
about to touch, she saw the yearning in his eyes to be   
kissed…so she stopped herself and pulled away.  
  
And nearly burst out laughing at the expression on   
his face.  
  
"I'm angry," she stated.  
  
"I can see that."  
  
She glared at him. "Would you like to know why?"  
  
His hand traced the curve of her face. "Go ahead and   
tell me."  
  
Her eyes narrowed into slits as she grabbed his hand   
and firmly placed it by his side, not wanting to be   
distracted by his feathery touches. "I'm *angry*   
because I am *tired* of doing *all* of the household   
chores—Iie." She corrected herself. "I don't mind   
doing them…but I'm *sick* of doing them the way   
you tell me to."   
  
She stood up and walked to sink.  
  
"Observe, Mamo-chan," she said. "I used to wash the   
dishes in a way that *I* was used to. But after we   
were married, you *told* me to do them your way.   
And when I asked why, you said because it was for   
the sake of cleanliness. And I'm *tired* of doing it   
that way- I want to go back to doing it the way I was   
before we were married."  
  
"Usa-ko, I told you to-"  
  
"Save it, Mamo-chan. Follow me." She walked out of   
the room and he stood up from his crouched position   
and followed her into family room.  
  
"Observe, Mamo-chan," she said again. "I used to   
dust the rooms by using a simple duster. But after we   
were married, you *told* me to dust your way, by   
using a rag and wood polisher. When I asked why,   
you said it was for the sake of cleanliness. 'A duster,'   
you said, 'was unsanitary and useless, because the   
dust would fly through the room and re-land on   
different objects.'" She pursed her lips and threw the   
duster at him with as much force as she could put   
behind it.  
  
He caught it, and she saw the dangerous gleam in his   
eyes…and she noted the muscle straining under his   
neck.  
  
"I don't want to do it that way anymore, Mamo-chan.   
If you expect me to clean for you and play house,   
then dammit, it will be by my own way!"  
  
"Usa-ko," he said, voice silken, making her very   
aware of how angry he was, "you don't seem to-"  
  
"Tsk tsk," she said, reveling in the power she had   
over him. "I wasn't finished yet. Follow me," she   
continued, walking into the bedroom.  
  
"Observe, Mamo-chan," Usagi said, repeating the   
words that he was growing tired of hearing. "I used to   
fold clothes in a much simpler way, and a way that I   
was used to. But after we were married, you *told*   
me to fold your way, by making a bunch of silly   
creases in the sleeves, and folding and crossing the   
sleeves in whichever way it was. When I asked you   
way, you said that you were used to your clothes   
being that way. But what I have trouble   
understanding," Usagi spat out, "is *why* is it that if   
*you* are used to the way *you* used to fold, why   
am *I* doing it?! Fold your own damn clothes!" She   
bent down and grabbed a few shirts and threw them   
at him, wincing when he didn't even duck.   
  
He watched her from under the clothes that had   
showered upon his head.   
  
"Usa-ko."  
  
It was then she knew that she had gone too far.  
  
And it was also then she started to try walk around   
him and get out the door.  
  
And it was also then he brushed off the clothes that   
had landed on his body…and turned around and   
locked the door.  
  
He stalked over to the bed that had the clothes she   
had folded neatly on it…and used his arm and swiped   
it all to the floor. He walked back to her, grabbed her   
arms, and bent his head, kissing her with a force that   
left her breathless when he finally let her go.  
  
"Mamo…Mamo-chan?" she said, chest heaving.   
"What are you-"  
  
"You could have just *told* me, Usa-ko. You could   
have just *told* me you didn't like washing the   
dishes the way I told you. You can have *told* me   
you didn't want to dust the way I had told you to."   
Gently, he laid her on the bed, kissing up and down   
the length of her neck. "You can have just *told*   
me," he said, breath warm on her chest, "that you   
didn't want to fold the clothes the way I had told you   
to."  
  
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.   
"Demo…Mamo-chan…I felt like you were just   
ordering me around…like I was some sort of puppet   
on a string…I know that you were alone for so long,   
but…sometimes, change is good." She reached up   
and kissed him on his forehead. "Are we done being   
angry now?" she asked him, twirling a lock of her   
hair in an innocent gesture.  
  
He grinned lecherously at her, making her breath   
halt. "I have some of that energy from being angry,   
pent inside of me." He kissed her cheek gently and   
then looked into her eyes. "What about you?"  
  
She giggled. "Me too, Mamo-chan."  
  
He smiled invitingly at her, and moved her body   
until her head was upon a fluffy white pillow.  
  
"Then why don't we put it to good use?"  
  
*  
  
  
E-mail me...onegai? ^^  
leluh16@yahoo.com 


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